


Can't Tell You I Love You

by Laur



Series: Don't Tell Me You Love Me [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 666 Fics Fics Fics (Good Omens), Crowley loves Aziraphale, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Slash, without using the word love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 06:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laur/pseuds/Laur
Summary: The opposite of love is apathy, not hate, and Crowley is far from apathetic.If Crowley cannot say he loves Aziraphale, he will do everything else instead.





	Can't Tell You I Love You

Crowley does not tell Aziraphale he loves him.

Demons don’t feel love. It’s part of the job description.

Before the mess with the Antichrist, Crowley was quite popular with Hell, excepting a few jealous wankers. Admittedly, this was due in part to some stretching of the truth in memos back to head office, but it’s hardly his fault they never check up. It’s not like he’s entirely incompetent. Work smarter, not harder, that’s his motto. And never underestimate the power of mild inconveniences.

For all that he might smudge the details in memos and employ creativity over craftsmanship, he has always taken Hell’s stance on Love very seriously: Don’t do it.

Oh, a demon can enjoy a good murder, relish a twisted seduction, savour an Evil plan, but Love? That’s _Heaven’s_ purview.

So he does not tell Aziraphale he loves him.

“Demons can’t love,” Aziraphale would say sadly.

Crowley finds the complex hazel-blue of Aziraphale’s eyes aesthetically pleasing. He is enchanting when indulging in good food or fine wine, and their conversations are endlessly entertaining and stimulating. His steadfast loyalty, his soft hands, his endearingly messy curls – all lovely. He’s nice without being a pushover, innocent without being completely naïve, joyful without being false, and just enough of a bastard to be worth liking.

“When an angel Falls, God’s love is replaced by hate,” Aziraphale would say.

But the opposite of love is apathy, not hate, and Crowley is far from apathetic. If the passions of love and hate are siblings, then to feel one must surely mean to feel the other. How can one hate the cold without also loving heat? How can one hate boredom without loving to speed in a classic Bentley? How can one hate to be lonely if they’ve never known the pleasure of good company?

What is love if not admiration and enjoyment of all that someone is? Making the angel laugh gives him a bigger rush than a well-executed temptation. Watching Aziraphale eat is more satisfying than a commendation from Hell. Witnessing Aziraphale stand up for his beliefs makes him as proud as when he built stars. Being invited into Aziraphale’s bookshop makes him feel more welcome than he ever felt in Heaven or Hell.

Aziraphale’s rejection hurts more than his expulsion from Heaven.

But Crowley does not say ‘I love you’ to Aziraphale.

Instead, he saves Aziraphale from an executioner in Paris and Nazis in London. Instead, he makes Hamlet a booming success, protects a bag of old books from a bomb, and removes a stain from an ancient coat. Instead, he is patient as Aziraphale struggles to see past Heaven’s propaganda. He asks Aziraphale to escape to the stars and runs back to him even after he declines.

When he thinks Aziraphale dead, he welcomes the end of everything.

He fights his fear to be at Aziraphale’s side on a Tadfield airbase and he lets Aziraphale tuck him into bed after an evening of dinner and drinks.

If Crowley cannot say he loves Aziraphale, he will do everything else instead.

He will give him books and sushi and froufrou cocktails. Hand-tailored coats and tickets to every Schubert, Bach, and Beethoven concert. He will sleep in comfort knowing Aziraphale is in the next room and in the morning he will fireproof his entire blessed bookshop.

He will go as slow as he needs to, but not too slow. A brush of the hands here, a lick of the lips there. A sultry look or two. It’s hardly a temptation if the tempted already wants it, and Crowley suspects Aziraphale does (has for a while now). Meanwhile, he will sate himself with thoughts of sweet words spoken against warm skin, sharp teeth grazing straining tendons, manicured fingers clenching into quivering muscle. Wet lips sucking unspeakable places.

Crowley’s never been a typical demon. If a demon is to feel Love for the first time, it may as well be him.

He dreams of being woken with coffee and a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your kudos and comments <3
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr!](https://notesoflore.tumblr.com/)


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